


Pillowed

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9424463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Phasma misses him.





	

Before Kylo, Phasma has always slept alone. There were times when she might have shared a room’s occupancy, but never a bed. The Order didn’t like its soldiers to fraternise below a certain level, and only then when there was going to be viable offspring for the ranks. 

Phasma will not be having viable offspring. Not here, anyway. She’s far too pivotal for the Order to be downgraded to less capable whilst she’s carrying, and she’s also not sure she wants to be a mother, not yet, anyway.

The point is, before Kylo, she had no reason to dread sleeping alone. It was the rule, without exception. 

Now she’s spoilt.

Kylo sneaks into her room, or sneaks her into his, more often than not. Their tryst isn’t _technically_ against any regs, but it _could_ be seen as a risk of corruption and favouritism. He’s very careful to keep their love affair under wraps, and she’s grateful for it.

But today he’s away, and she’s spent the day as she normally does. They get little time to interact during the core hours (other than the most casual, work-place discussions), and she’s okay with that. Normally. But today - knowing she would come home to an empty bed - the lack of even the slightest contact has rankled her, made her hairs prickle, made her knees ache, her skin dry up. 

She stays out as long as she can, until she can’t possibly put it off any more.

Eat. Shower. Retreat. It’s her old life, and now it’s empty. Without someone to laugh with about the batch of uneven masks, or the dumb question of the day… without someone to ask if she’s okay, or put a hand on her shoulder… 

It’s not that she doesn’t _love_ her job. It’s just that she loves him, too. She can have both, and one enriches the other.

Exhaustion and the knowledge of tomorrow’s rising time sends her to her bed, and she climbs under the covers. It’s not even really cold, and her heat will warm under the duvet, but the lack of soft skin and toned form to cuddle and be cuddled by is saddening. 

Without another person, her life becomes… not a life. She becomes simply a part of a machine, and it hurts to know she’d never realised before. She’d been fine being that, but now she can’t go _back_.

His breathing, making the bed move. His fingers at her temple. His kisses at her ear. The knowledge of his affection, the safety in his arms. She misses it, and worries this means she’s weak. 

Eventually, she can’t stand it any more. She grabs his pillow (the one that still smells of him, and likely always will), stuffing it partly between her thighs, and into her belly. She curls her knees up around it, and cuddles it to her chest.

_I miss you. I miss you so much_.

It’s a poor substitute, but it will have to do. She nestles her face into the soft plush, closing her eyes.

When the door creaks open, she’s not sure if she was asleep or not. She’s disorientated, and for a moment she feels guilty about her sentimental fit. What if it’s a senior - or even subordinate - officer seeing her weak like this?

Thankfully, it’s Kylo. She recognises his breathing and watches as he undresses, with only one eye able to unglue. Her face is smushed into the pillow, so she must have fallen asleep at some point. 

Dry lips creak into a smile, and he slips into bed behind her, wrapping his long legs and arms over her back. His nose is slightly cold where it touches her, but she doesn’t mind. 

“Missed you,” she croaks.  


“I came as fast as I could,” he replies, feeling guilty. It’s right there in his tone.  


“You’re here now,” she reminds him, and relaxes into his grip. “Don’t go.”  


“I won’t,” he promises. “I won’t.”  



End file.
